Grateful: Yeah! Dead: No Way!

Rock`s Longest-running Love Affair Survives On Mutual Admiration

June 16, 1991|By Greg Kot, Rock music critic.

On Saturday, the Grateful Dead will be throwing a little party in Soldier Field for 55,000 of their closest friends.

``I feel we owe Chicago a great gig,`` says Dan Healy, who pilots the band`s $2.5 million sound system at concerts. ``It seems to me we haven`t delivered anything boss and fun there for quite some time, and Chicago has always been good to us-like a second home since the `60s.``

Which is good news for Deadheads, because just a few years ago, it was turn out the lights, the party`s almost over.

In 1987, the Dead became larger than life. On the heels of the band`s first Top 10 album (``In the Dark``) and single (``Touch of Grey``), the legion of Deadheads had swelled to several divisions. These newcomers to the carnival, wearing their tie-dyed T-shirts and scarves like a uniform of nonconformity, would invariably overwhelm every community the band played in, and pretty soon some concert venues began rolling up the welcome mat.

Don`t show up without a ticket, the members of the Dead pleaded, or we may never be able to play in your town again.

But then a wonderful thing happened. A followup album in 1989, ``Built to Last,`` was, in relation to ``In the Dark`` at least, a commercial stiff.

``I was exceedingly relieved,`` says the band`s biographer and publicist, Dennis McNally. ``A second major hit would`ve been a disaster.``

The band continues to fill stadiums-last year it sold $29 million worth of tickets to 63 North American shows-but the hysteria surrounding the band`s visits has quieted to manageable levels.

``We`ve turned the corner on that in a big way,`` says road manager Cameron Sears. ``We`re constantly under the microscope because of who we are and how we`re perceived by mainstream society. I often say that if someone robbed a bank in Iowa with a Grateful Dead shirt on, the police would be calling me for an explanation.

``But I think the audience has responded to our concerns-they know that if they want to continue seeing the Grateful Dead, they have to act accordingly, and they have.``

On a splendid star-lit evening a few days ago, the Dead kicked off their summer tour at Deer Creek Music Center in Noblesville, Ind., just north of Indianapolis.

Thousands of would-be flower children, graying ex-hippies and a few hundred thrilled-to-be-here curiosity seekers boogied in the aisles. At one point, the seven men on stage sounded as if they were soloing at once, but then the maddening cacophony suddenly transmuted into a glorious melody line with a soaring statement of perseverence: ``If the thunder don`t get ya, then the lightning will.``

Many of the band`s songs are about sticking it out through tough times, and no wonder. To those on the outside, the Dead are past-their-prime acid freaks followed by a caravan of unwashed and misguided teenagers in search of their own `60s.

To those on the inside, however, the Dead are the greatest live band in the world, advocates of having a good time, thinking for oneself and respecting one`s neighbor and the planet.

Given the disparity of those perceptions, the Dead are rock`s unlikeliest, longest-running and perhaps most misunderstood success story. Grateful Dead Productions Inc. in San Rafael, Calif., is a 50-person, multimillion-dollar, high-tech corporation. Many of the band`s employees, such as Healy and roadie extraordinaire Ramon ``Ram Rod`` Rodriguez Rodriguez, have been with the family for decades, pulling down healthy salaries and benefits. The Dead treat each show as a sacred trust: the best sound and lights, the highest level of musicianship, the least-expensive tickets possible

(generally $2 to $3 lower than most major acts), the safest and cleanest environment.

Nearly a year before each touring season, the band and its staff of seasoned campaigners begin plotting each date. Architectural drawings of each concert site are sent to Healy, who then feeds them through a computer and designs a sound system specifically for each show with the group`s state-of-the-art equipment, widely acknowledged as the best in the business.

Then, a few months before concerts the magnitude of Soldier Field, Sears and his staff will meet with promoters and local officials to discuss security, crowd control and parking.

``We don`t turn a deaf ear and say, `Don`t worry about it, you won`t even know we`re here,` because that`s not true,`` Sears says. ``We have a long-term obligation to these communities because we want to keep coming back.``

`It`s very unusual for a band to take the time to do something like that,`` says Jerry Mickelson, co-owner of Jam Productions, which is promoting the Soldier Field show and has worked with the band for 20 years. ``This band obviously cares a great deal about their shows and their fans to talk well in advance with all the people involved-the police, the park district-to ensure a smooth, safe event.`` The Dead`s paternal relationship to their fans is fitting, because 75 percent of them are young enough to be the band members`